


A taste of power

by Mad_Amethyst



Series: Silver's Journey Through Darkness [6]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Canonical Character Death, Episode Related, Episode XXV. (S03E07), Gen, POV John Silver, POV Third Person Limited, Self-Worth Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6419584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Amethyst/pseuds/Mad_Amethyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone should learn to shut up...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A taste of power

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a Black Sails challenge between [Sweety_Mutant](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweety_Mutant/pseuds/Sweety_Mutant) and me. You can read hers [there](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6188572/chapters/14179048)!
> 
> Rules: Seven sentences were picked up on this [dialogue generator](http://writingexercises.co.uk/dialogue-generator.php). Each chapter/part must have one of them in it (in the order we want) and be less than 1000 words.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Black Sails or its characters. I simply use them for my own pleasure. :)

“Is that it?” some voice retorted behind John.

He stopped right in his tracks. _Fuck!_ He turned to face the man sitting in the shadows, at the end of the room. He knew who he was, even before he could see him. This voice, so arrogant and annoying…

“Surely there must be more,” continued Dufresne, all the faces now turned towards him. The chair squeaked as the man stood up and walked slowly to him with confidence. “Surely, if Captain Flint were truly alive, he can do better than to send a handful of men led by half a man…” Their eyes met at this precise moment. But John refused to react to the insult, maintaining his calm stature while simply listening. “… in the dead of night to deliver a threat as weak as this.”

He could feel the anger building in him little by little. Quiet, but burning, as poison flowing through his veins. _This fucker is trying to sabotage us…_

“A treat that amounts to, what?” Dufresne went on, raising his eyebrows with a little head move, as if to emphasise how ridiculous the treat was. “ _Fear my name.”_

Oh, how John wanted to destroy this contempt face at the moment… how he wanted to crush these little glasses along with these condescending eyes…

He put the book roughly on the nearest table, letting a hand on its cover to show everyone that it was still his property, and looked at the man right in the eye. _You want to play it that way, huh? Oh, you think you’re so smart… I’ll make you regret it…_

Dufresne seemed serene, fearless. Surely he did not care of making Flint and his crew his enemies. “Contented men have short memories,” he said as he got even closer to him, “and they have little reason to fear the dark.”

There was no hesitation in his steps. Obviously, he did not see John as a treat. “Captain Flint’s name is already half forgotten.” The darkness was spreading in his heart, in his blood, in his mind, taking slowly each piece of his being. _Well… we just have to remind them why they feared it in the first place… Not a hard challenge to convince a bunch of fucking cowards… And if words are not enough…_

“As for you…” the arrogant man continued, cutting his internal voice. John took a step forward with his peg leg, challenging him to go on. The scornful tone with which Dufresne addressed him was only keeping his anger up. “… I know enough of you to know that even whole… you were unworthy of half the attention we paid you.”

He had never felt it before… the thirst for blood. He was not a violent man by nature, and really he preferred to avoid fights as much as possible. But right now, against this one particular person, this unfamiliar thirst was consuming him. He could almost see Flint’s hands on him, modelling him to make him in his own image. His brain was sending him beautiful pictures, a whole scene he could play. All he had to do was to act. ‘Do it. Show him your new colours.’

He moved to the next table, where two men were listening attentively to Dufresne’s speech. In his back, he could feel his enemy’s gaze still on him.

“And now, as a goddamn invalid, you expect that to change?”

That was it. The last straw. What made the darkness shallow him whole.

*CRASH*

The mug that John had just grabbed from the table connected with Dufresne’s face violently, making the man fall pathetically on the ground. A woman screamed somewhere in the room; some chairs squeaked. His crew put a quick end to the agitation, keeping everybody in place. _Now you see. All of you._

He put the mug back on the table, his hand still filled with the sensation of the clash. His eyes were on Dufresne, watching his now naked and stunned face, the fresh cut on his cheek. _I must admit… you and your fucking tongue… you hit the right spot…_ He moved slowly to him, enjoying the moans of pain coming from his abused mouth. _I thought I was past it, y’know. I really did. But you had to bring it back… my insecurities…_ He stopped right to his head, leaving his iron leg before his eyes for him to see what would be his end. _You make me feel like I’m not good enough. For this crew. For Him…_ The cage was opened. His body was now burning with all the frustration he had accumulated these past few months. _But y’see… there is only one person allowed to make me feel like this… and it’s me! So…_

*SPROUTCH* _SHUT…_

A grunt, the voice of his rage, expressing itself in rhythm with the sound of the metal striking. Power. He could feel it running through him when his iron leg crushed Dufresne’s head. He needed more. So much more.

*SPROUTCH* _THE…_

His rage screaming again. Warm blood splashing on his cheek. There was only him and his target in his world right now.

*SPROUTCH* _FUCK…_

It felt good, letting all his bad feelings come out like that. Letting the darkness take control, make his dreams true.

*SPROUTCH* _UP!_

He put all his strength in this blow, all what remained from his frustration and fears. Dufresne’s head was an undecipherable mess, bits of brain, crushed eyes, teeth and bloody skin mixed together. _And now, is the goddamn invalid worth your attention?!_

John’s breath was erratic. He took a few seconds to calm down, then he looked up. Everyone was staring at him. _Good._

“Tomorrow you will join us…” he started, his tone cold and powerful, “or you will all be looking over your shoulders the rest of your lives.”

Right now, he felt unstoppable. And he loved this feeling more than anything else.

“My name is John Silver, and I’ve got a long fucking memory.”

**Author's Note:**

> The sentence used for this part was: "You make me feel like I'm not good enough." Right from the start, I wanted to use it there, but it was harder than I thought. Especially because of the word limitation... So I hope the end doesn't seem hasty.  
> Anyway, if you liked it, please let me know with a kudo or a comment. I never know where I stand with my writing. :/


End file.
